


Club

by meyghasa



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 06:50:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1678778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meyghasa/pseuds/meyghasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Date night at the club should be pretty straightforward, but nothing is straightforward when Sly Blue is around.  Koujaku should know that by now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Club

**Author's Note:**

> A thousand thanks to my lovely betas, [assbaka](http://assbaka.tumblr.com) and [dagontreadswater](http://dagontreadswater.tumblr.com)!

Admittedly, Koujaku was not the biggest fan of clubs.  Sure, he had gone to his fair share.  When ladies had asked for the pleasure of his company, he always had a hard time denying them.  But he didn't enjoy it, per se.  The music was always too loud and the lights were too flashy and after a few too many drinks he was always tired and vaguely sick and wanting to go home.

If he ever thought that denying a lady's request was difficult, he was in for a rude awakening trying to say no to Aoba.  Aoba had this way of tilting his head just a couple of degrees to the left, poking out his bottom lip just the slightest bit, and giving Koujaku a _look_.  It was the look that did it every single time.  

"I just feel like dancing," Aoba had said, his voice sulky as he fiddled with his Coil.  "It's not a big deal."  He looked up, eyes shining, and Koujaku sighed.

And that was how they ended up at the club.  They ran into a few members of Benishigure, endured some good-natured ribbing about "date night with the boyfriend", and downed a few drinks.  

A familiar beat thrummed through the club, and Aoba perked up. Sitting straight in his chair he turned to Koujaku with a big grin.  "I love this song.  Let's go dance."

Really, how could he say no?

Aoba tugged his hand to get him to stand and started weaving through the dancers to the center of the dance floor. He tried to pull his hand away as they walked, but Koujaku kept a firm grip, prompting a narrow-eyed stare and a mutter that he couldn't hear over the music.  The dancers parted around them, then filled the space until they were awash in a sea of gyrating bodies.  

Koujaku stood awkwardly, glancing around them before finally settling his gaze on Aoba.  Aoba's face was bright red, a combination of alcohol and embarrassment, and Koujaku looked away, nervous.  He was all too aware of how ridiculous they must look standing stock still in the middle of a moving mass of dancers, but he couldn't figure out how to, well, start.  How close was too close?  Would Aoba be annoyed if he held on to him?  Looking around, some of the dancing tableaus around them were definitely bordering on being inappropriate for a public setting.  Koujaku felt the heat rush to his head at the thought.  He couldn't do that with Aoba.  Not in the middle of a public place, with some of his Rib team members nearby-- 

He was startled from his thoughts by arms sliding around his waist.  He couldn't help his startled jerk, especially when he realized it was none other than Aoba holding on to him.  Aoba's face was lowered, offering Koujaku a nice view of bright blue hair and little else.  

"A-aoba," he managed, but Aoba's only response was to press his fingers into Koujaku's hips and start to move.  It started as little movements, a light swaying back and forth with the music.  Koujaku tentatively placed one hand on Aoba's shoulder and the other on his waist and slowly fell into rhythm.  

The bass pounded in his brain and he wanted nothing more than to lose control, dragging Aoba with him.  Maybe Aoba was feeling the same way, because his movements were becoming stronger, more insistent.  Aoba's fingers at his hips pulled him closer, scant inches between them, then closer still until they were pressed against each other.  One arm wrapped around Koujaku's waist to hold him in place as Aoba began to gyrate his hips.

Koujaku's face flushed in surprise.  "Aoba!"  He tried to pull back, looking down, but Aoba wasn't letting go.  Slowly Aoba raised his head, and the glint in his amber eyes and the smile like a knife sent a leaden ball into Koujaku's gut.  "...Sly."

"You don't seem particularly happy to see me," Sly said flatly.  "Don't tell me you're going to start whining for your precious Aoba to come back already.  We haven't even finished one song."

Koujaku swallowed hard.  In truth, that was exactly what he had been about to do.  It was like a reflex at this point.  Even though he, Aoba, and Sly Blue had come to a, well, agreement over the past several months, he never could feel quite at ease when Sly Blue was around.  Sly was too volatile, too wrapped up in the desire to do whatever the fuck he wanted, and he always ended up dragging Koujaku along for the ride--whether he wanted to or not.  

And yet, his body was betraying him already.  Their proximity, the way Aoba--no, Sly's hips were pressed against his, the way his eyes were shining in the flashing lights... Koujaku knew how this would end.  He felt his cock stirring with interest already and it had barely been a full minute.  Worse, Sly knew.  Of course Sly knew.  It was written all over his face.

"That's better," Sly sneered, smirking up at him.  "We can at least dance to a couple songs, right?"  He tightened his arm around Koujaku's waist, fingers pressing into the small of his back, and started to move with even more purpose.  When Koujaku didn't immediately respond, Sly rolled his eyes and huffed, already annoyed.  "Come on, old man.  It's not going to fucking kill you to dance to one fucking song and actually enjoy yourself.  Aoba's not going to cry himself to sleep thinking about how you actually enjoyed having me around for once."

Eyes narrowed, Koujaku tried to move away.  He felt his temper throbbing just below the surface and tried desperately to hold on to his control.  Sly felt it and bared his teeth in a snarl.  Grabbing Koujaku's chin and forcing him to meet his gaze, Sly growled just loud enough to be heard above the music.  "Don't fucking push me, Koujaku.  I'm not worried about your reputation, and I'm damn sure not worried about mine.  Now stop being a bitch and dance with me."

Taking a deep breath and pushing his anger down, Koujaku nodded once.  He wouldn't put it past Sly to cause some kind of commotion, and he couldn't do that to Aoba.  He forcibly shoved aside any curiosity about just how this would play out, reminded himself that he was doing this to protect Aoba, and stopped his fight against the arm around his waist.  Sly looked almost disappointed, but that quickly faded into a leering grin as he started to grind his hips.  As the beat thrummed through them, Sly slowly shifted until he was straddling one of Koujaku's legs, rubbing lewdly against Koujaku's thigh.  Koujaku could feel the hard length of Sly's cock through his jeans and fought against a moan.  Surprising both of them, Koujaku began moving his leg to increase the friction and Sly's eyes fluttered closed.   

The grinding was pushing Koujaku too far.  He always tried to rein himself in when Sly was around, because Sly himself needed reining in.  Getting each other off in the middle of a dance floor was just too much.  Shaking his head to try to clear some of the lust from it, he squeezed Sly's shoulder and leaned in to speak above the music.  "Sly... we have to st--hng!"  His words were cut off when Sly's hand snaked between them, grabbing Koujaku's erection and squeezing.  "Sly!  N-no--"

"Your mouth says no but this," Sly squeezed again, "says hell yes."

Koujaku felt his will crumbling.  "Not... here."

Sly smirked triumphantly.  Grabbing Koujaku's wrist, he started weaving through the crowd on the dance floor, heading in the direction of the restroom with Koujaku in tow like a lost child.  Koujaku was grateful for the kimono that hid the worst of his erection, but Sly apparently didn't care the slightest bit that his skinny jeans left nothing to the imagination.  Sly kicked in the door of the restroom, dragged Koujaku in, and glanced at the lock.  "Should we leave it open?  Someone could walk right in.  Adds a thrill, don't you think?" 

Away from the pulsing lights and music, Koujaku felt a modicum of his self-control returning.  "There's not going to be a thrill, because this--" he gestured between them "--isn't happening."

Sly's eyes narrowed angrily.  "What?"

"We aren't doing this.  It was bad enough on the dance floor, but I'm not going to... to... do whatever it is you have in mind in a _bathroom_ where anyone could walk in on us."  

Koujaku turned and put a hand on the door handle, but before he could open the door, he was flipped back around, his back slamming into the door hard enough to make breath escape his lungs in a whoosh.  Sly was in his face, hands pressing into the door on either side of him, looking legitimately threatening and downright pissed.  "I must not have heard you right.  It almost sounded like you were saying no. 

"I _am_ saying no," Koujaku hissed, his temper flaring back up.  How dare this little punk treat him like some wilting flower he could take advantage of, just because he had gotten himself worked up dancing?  Koujaku tried to ignore the fact that his cock was still throbbing, still rock hard from their little display on the dance floor.  

"Funny," Sly mused, dropping his hands and reaching behind Koujaku to flip the lock on the door.  One hand slipped under Koujaku's kimono to the button of his jeans, easily slipping it free and tugging the zipper down.  The movement was so bold that it caught Koujaku by surprise, so much so that he didn't respond--or fight it--until Sly had worked his jeans and boxers down his thighs, letting his erection peek out from behind the cloth of his kimono.  

The reality of the situation slapped him in the face when Sly wrapped long fingers around his dick and started to stroke.  He moaned low in his throat, slumping back against the door as his eyes slipped closed.  Two strokes, then three, and Koujaku desperately tried to pull himself together.  "I said no," he said weakly, shoving at Sly's shoulder with no conviction at all.  

Sly glared at him, anger and desire bubbling in equal measure behind his gold eyes.  "Objection noted.  What you fail to remember is that I _know_ you, Koujaku.  I know you're going to enjoy this, and I know you're going to be begging for more by the time I'm done with you.  Now let me suck your cock like a good boy, you nosebleeding fuck.  I'm losing my patience."  He slid to his knees, shoving aside Koujaku's kimono and grabbing his hips, pinning him against the door.  Koujaku could only watch helplessly as pink lips parted, slid over the head of his cock, and kept sliding down, engulfing him in warm wetness and short-circuiting whatever protests he had left.  Sly sucked his dick like a champion, employing every trick he knew and exploiting every weakness.  He knew that when he swept his tongue just so against the slit, Koujaku's knees would shake.  He knew that when his fingers stroked the skin just behind his balls, Koujaku would throw his head back and moan.  He knew that when he employed this amount of suction and the hint of teeth against the head, Koujaku would tangle his fingers in Sly's hair and pull.  

Koujaku knew that he didn't have much control left, and if Sly kept at it, this tryst was going to be over before it really began.  "W-wait," he gasped, eyes squeezed shut as he pressed his head against the door.  "If you keep--wait--" Sly didn't show any intention of stopping, so, at his wit's end, Koujaku tugged his hair, hard.  Sly pulled back with a wet pop and looked up in annoyance.  Koujaku could see the snide remark forming already, so he hauled Sly up to his feet and cut it off with a kiss.  Kisses with Sly were nothing like with Aoba.  With Aoba he was sweet, tentative, always a little afraid of losing control and hurting him somehow.  With Sly, all of those inhibitions fell by the wayside.  Kisses with Sly were sloppy with too much tongue and teeth.  They were violent, with biting and snarling.  And while Koujaku would never quite admit it to himself, he loved this side just as much.

While they kissed, Koujaku made short work of Sly's jeans, shoving them down his thighs until he was similarly exposed.  With a hand on Sly's hip, Koujaku pressed him backwards until Sly's ass hit the edge of the sink counter, then pressed forward even more until their dicks were pressed together in a line.  Sly let loose a groan that Koujaku swallowed as he wrapped his fingers around both of their cocks together and began to roughly stroke.  Pulling away from the kiss, Sly grabbed the hem of his shirt and yanked it up over his head and dropped it to the floor.  He grabbed Koujaku's hand and brought it to his chest.  Koujaku didn't need the encouragement; he slid his hand across Sly's chest, savoring the silky skin, then tweaked Sly's nipples one after the other.  

"Nng," Sly said.  "Fucking... do that again.  Harder."  He buried his face against Koujaku's neck, latching onto Koujaku's skin and sucking viciously.  Koujaku twisted Sly's nipple between his thumb and forefinger, unable to suppress his own moans as Sly joined a hand to his and helped him stroke their cocks together.  

It wasn't going to be much longer.  Koujaku could already feel his control close to snapping, too keyed up from all the previous attention.  He tugged and twisted Sly's nipple, quickening the pace of his strokes.  Suddenly Sly's hand smacked his away and grabbed the base of his cock, squeezing painfully.  Koujaku shouted in frustration and pain, shoving Sly's face from his neck.  

Where he expected some angry retort, instead he got a leering grin.  "You're gonna make me come first," Sly said matter-of-factly, moving Koujaku's hand back to his chest before leaning back, propping himself up with both hands on the counter's edge.  The look in his eyes was all Koujaku needed to go on the attack.  He leaned forward, pressed chest-to-chest, and stuck two fingers in Sly's mouth.  Sly's eyes widened, but he obediently sucked hard on Koujaku's fingers until he slid them free with a pop.  Keeping up the pace of his strokes with one hand, Koujaku moved his spit-soaked fingers to Sly's ass, not being the slightest bit gentle as he shoved both fingers inside.  

"Oh, fuck," Sly growled, his head dropping back to expose the column of his throat.  Koujaku wasted no time leaning in, biting Sly's neck just shy of hard enough to break the skin.  He peppered bites and suction along Sly's neck as he simultaneously finger-fucked his ass and jerked him off, and it wasn't long before Sly was swearing in a breathless rush, fingers tightening on the counter.  Koujaku sunk his teeth into Sly's shoulder, and that was all it took for hot cum to spurt from Sly's cock, splattering all over his stomach and Koujaku's hand.  

Sly sagged against the counter and Koujaku pulled his fingers free, wiping his cum-covered hand clean on Sly's skin.  Sly opened his eyes and grinned.  "Now where were we?" he mused, pushing Koujaku's shoulders to cross the bathroom again, slamming Koujaku's back against the door.  He dropped back to his knees, licking his lips, and went to work on Koujaku's cock.  Slim fingers slid up and down his shaft while he tongued and sucked on the thick head, dipping his tongue in the slit, running it along the ridge, swirling it in endless circles.  

The wet slurping sounds reverberated in the bathroom, striking Koujaku in his very core.  He didn't bother trying to hold back.  Instead he buried both hands in Sly's hair in encouragement, moaning loudly and squeezing his eyes shut.  He could feel himself toppling over the edge and one hand dropped from Sly's head, scrabbling at his waist.  He gripped Sly's hand hard as cum shot down his throat, and Koujaku could feel Sly swallowing around him before he pulled free.  Sly jerked him hard through his orgasm, several more lines of cum spurting across his face and shoulders.

As he came down from the high, ignoring the ringing in his ears and slumping back against the door, Koujaku glanced down at Sly.  He blushed to the tips of his ears staring at Sly looking so lewd sitting on his knees covered in streaks of cum from his face to his stomach.  But he also looked... startled?  Koujaku followed his gaze to their clasped hands at his hip, his own eyes widening in surprise.  He let go immediately and Sly skittered backwards.  

"Um," Koujaku said.  

"Yeah," Sly said.

They stared at each other in silence.  They both knew that this was a habit Koujaku only ever did with Aoba.  He always held Aoba's hand when he came, like he wanted to be even closer, like he never wanted to let him go.  In all the times Sly and Koujaku had ended up together, not once had Koujaku grabbed his hand the same way.  At least, not until today.  

If Sly felt any joy at it, he kept it carefully hidden as he stood up, grabbed a handful of paper towels, and started wiping himself down, keeping his back to Koujaku as he cleaned himself up.  If Koujaku saw the small smile on Sly's face in the mirror, he didn't say anything as he tucked himself away and pulled his pants back up, rearranging his kimono.  They finished making themselves presentable in silence.

Their eyes met briefly as Sly flicked the lock open, glancing over his shoulder at the goofy grin Koujaku couldn't hide.  Sly rolled his eyes.  "Let's go get a drink, idiot."

Koujaku followed without any complaint.

 


End file.
